Blessed Are They
by WhitethornWolf
Summary: The Blight is over, but the danger is not. A series of drabbles set in the time of Awakening. Cousland struggles with the consequences of her actions, and learns even as she teaches.
1. Full Circle

_Blessed are they who stand before_  
_The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter._  
_Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just._  
- Benedictions 4:10

* * *

The dawn sunlight woke her from a restless doze. The feeling of cold sheets where there should have been warm hands made her sit up in confusion.

The room came into focus around her. Unfamiliar furniture and half-opened saddlebags on the floor; a desk with a stack of papers and a portrait of the previous arl on the far wall, that made her lip curl. They'd put her in Howe's bedroom of all places, and Eilin reined in the petty urge to tear the portrait to shreds. Instead she untangled herself and sat up, heedless of her dishevelled state, and tried to recall the night before.

She, the Warden recruits, and what remained of the soldiers had kicked and rolled the darkspawn into a pile and burned on the outskirts, so the stink was easier to bear. The fallen they arranged in a funeral pyre, and she remembered staring at the bodies twisting and blackening in the flames and wondering how she'd managed to fail so badly on the first night.

Logically she knew it wasn't entirely her fault; the talking darkspawn was an enigma, and a dangerous one at that. But if she had just arrived earlier, then maybe more would have lived.

If only was a dangerous thought to entertain, but she thought it nonetheless.

Filthy and exhausted, it had been almost midnight when the initial work finished, and the seneschal, Varel had tried to press her to proceed with the Joining.

"No," she'd said, and at his confusion she'd explained how the ritual was physically and mentally tasking.

Failure was bitter, and she'd already tasted it on the tip of her tongue. There was no need to add to it unnecessarily. An eight hour delay might mean the difference between three recruits and none, and she'd rather the delay than take the chance.

Varel didn't understand, and she didn't expect him to. But he seemed the sort of man who would rather trust a leader's judgement, and she felt entitled to believe she'd earned that trust by deed alone, at the very least.

Clothes and books she tossed out of her saddlebags with abandon, until her fingers touched cold glass. Gingerly she drew the container out and held it up to the light.

Intact.

The saddlebags she left half unpacked, and the papers she left on the desk. Out of the entire stack, she knew of only one letter addressed to the First Warden, telling him of the deaths of his - her - Wardens.

She didn't even know their names.

"Commander?"

She'd had the main hall cleared to Varel's surprise and the guard captain's concern. Neither of their reactions surprised or moved her. The Wardens' secrets needed to be kept, whether or not she agreed with their methods.

Anders was the first to arrive, the sunlight in the doorway picking gold and red highlights in his hair, and for a moment she thought of another man with hair just a little darker.

That sentiment could wait, however, and she beckoned him inside.

"You're just the man I want to see. I didn't get to thank you for helping me last night."

"No need to thank me," the mage said lightly. "Just keep the templars off my back, and I'll be happy."

"I'll do that," Eilin said. "And more."

The Joining was hard; not that she'd expected it to be easy, but it was one thing to steel oneself against memories and another to experience it from the other side of the chalice.

Mhairi was the last and only victim, and she gasped her last on the floor as Anders and Oghren lay sprawled nearby.

It was cruel to reduce Mhairi to a statistic, but even so, Eilin couldn't help thinking that two out of three was a better outcome than she'd expected.

By the time they woke up she'd opened the main hall and arranged Mhairi's funeral pyre outside, presided over by Varel and a few soldiers who'd known her before she joined.

"Grey Wardens pay a price to be what we are," she explained, when Anders and Oghren joined them. "Sometimes, we pay our price now instead of later."

She could see the question in Anders' eyes, but Oghren knew, and for once he was silent.


	2. Awakening

The road to the Keep was in poor repair, and as Eilin sank to her ankles in mud, she resolved to have it fixed as soon as possible.

The arling was a gift of sorts, given to the Grey Wardens, and somehow she knew that would come back to bite her in the arse. She'd never thought to set foot in this place again.

"Do you know what happened to the arl's family?" she asked Mhairi.

The soldier shook her head, and raised her hand to shield her eyes from the rain. Eilin picked strands of hair off her cheeks and forehead and resisted the urge to scowl. Six months of living in the palace had spoiled her, it seemed.

She wondered what happened to Howe's wife and children. Dead, probably, or perhaps they'd managed to flee Ferelden. Maybe even her brother had-

No, Fergus would never. Even so, she'd given little thought to Howe's family, despite hating Howe with every fibre of her being. It was a shame how an old house could be brought down by one man's cruelty and subterfuge.

"That's strange. The other Wardens should be here to welcome you."

Eilin blinked, jolted from her thoughts, and realised they were nearing the Keep's outer gates.

The rain was falling lightly, though the ground was sodden. It looked like it'd been raining for days, which wasn't unexpected along the coast, but it didn't improve her mood any.

"Oh, I wouldn't expect that," Eilin said lightly. "We probably interrupted dinner."

Mhairi shook her head. "No, Commander, every Warden was to be here to greet you. I-"

Eilin's sword was in her hand before she realised; the familiar crawl of her skin was a sensation she'd become attuned to during the Blight.

"Darkspawn," she said sharply. Her horse skittered nervously and resisted the reins as they approached the Vigil's gates.

Mhairi drew her sword and lifted her heavy shield, face pale under her helmet.

Eilin's nerves were on edge, adrenaline surging through her. There were darkspawn approaching; she couldn't tell how many, but the taint throbbing in her blood told her enough.

There shouldn't be darkspawn here. One or two small groups throughout the Coastlands maybe, remnants of the Blight that managed to avoid the soldiers. But here? At the only Grey Warden stronghold in Ferelden? Something was wrong.

Her horse whinnied, pulling her head back and twisting the reins out of her grip. In a flash she was gone, bolting for the tangle of dark trees framing the road.

"Sodding -"

"Maker, help me! Help me!"

There were darkspawn right on top of them; cursing, Eilin drew her dirk and buried it into the nearest hurlock's eye, taking its head off with her follow-up strike, and turning to slash another across the chest.

It was a long time since she'd fought in the rain, and she knew well how much of a hindrance the muddy ground could be. Luckily darkspawn were neither immune to mud, or to master strategists.

The soldier who'd shouted for help struck the last darkspawn with his mace, then turned towards them. His eyes were wild with panic, and she kept her distance.

"It's you," he gasped, and lowered his bloody weapon. "You're the Hero of Ferelden."

"I'm here to help," Eilin said, and lowered her sword. "Tell me what's happened."

"I…I don't know what happened," the soldier replied. He looked haggard and bewildered, and was shivering. "The darkspawn came out of nowhere. I…all I saw were people dying. And the screams…Maker, save me!"

Eilin and Mhairi exchanged a glance.

"And the Wardens?" Eilin said sharply.

"I don't know, Commander. Please! You have to do something. You have to help them!"

"Mhairi? Are there other outposts along the Pilgrim's Path?" Eilin asked.

"Yes, one about five miles north of here."

She turned back to the soldier and looked him up and down.

"Go," she said. "Raise the alarm and bring as many soldiers as you can."

"Commander, we don't have much time," Mhairi said as the soldier disappeared into the darkness. "What should we do?"

"We send them to the Void," Eilin said, mouth set in a grim line.


	3. An Understanding

For all Amaranthine's faults, its guards were easy enough to work with, and its streets easy enough to navigate. Eilin learned the layout of the city within the first few hours - market district, alienage, chantry, guard barracks, outskirts; she'd observed the people coming and going and picked up a few jobs for coin.

"Call it indulging my nostalgic side," she'd said, when Nathaniel questioned if they _really_ needed to find so-and-so's husband or buy moonshine for the so-called Blight Orphans.

They'd gone to Kristoff's room in the Crown and Lion, and though it felt wrong poking through the man's things, he'd left a noticeable trail. Eilin wondered if it was deliberate or simply a coincidence; amazing that after all this time she could still believe in coincidences.

Even so it was good to have some kind of plan, even a half-formed one, and she celebrated by buying a pint for everyone. Even Nathaniel, who took small sips and looked as if he'd rather be anywhere else.

A rough, dirty hand clutching a mug slammed on the table, making her jump.

"Enjoyin' yer corner, Commander?"

Eilin grinned up at Oghren as he sat down and pulled the mug of ale towards him.

"Where's Anders?"

"Who?"

"The mage. Your fellow Warden."

"Oh, the skirt? Last I saw he was chattin' up some bar wench." The dwarf shrugged, took a draught of ale and belched. "So. You and the pike twirler."

"_Oghren_," Eilin said in a dangerous tone.

"Come on. Ever since I came to Vigil's Keep, you've been walkin' round with a moping look. Now he's off twirling his pike or whatever it is he does and you're here…being a Grey Warden. What happened?"

Eilin rolled her eyes. "Nothing happened. He has things to deal with, and I have my own responsibilities. It's a temporary parting."

Oghren mimicked her shrug and fixed her with a sharp look. "If you say so, Warden. You know what you need?"

"No, I don't want to wax the brass trumpet with you."

He snorted. "It's _polish_ the brass trumpet, woman. Is that all you think about?"

Eilin laughed loudly, then covered her mouth as Nathaniel scowled in their direction.

"But sure, you need to get back into it, like old times."

"Get back into...Oghren, you're not -" she covered her face with one hand. "Just...can we not talk about this in public?"

"Huh? What're you on about? I meant you need to stab something."

"Oh, right! Well, that's the plan." Eilin raised her mug. "To kicking darkspawn arse."

"I'll drink to that."

Anders sat down with his mug and flashed her a grin. "What'd I miss?"

"Nothing," Eilin said, and took a sip of her drink.

"Aw, come on. You can tell me. I'm good at keeping secrets."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. I was thinking about Rylock, and what happened at the warehouse, and what she said."

"Rylock said a lot of things," Anders said, and took a gulp of his ale. "Most of it bullshit."

"Even bullshit can be dangerous when people believe it." She shrugged. "I'm probably making a bigger deal out of it than it is. Still, what she said disturbed me."

Anders looked at her sharply over the rim of his mug, and not for the first time she was reminded not to underestimate him, for all his humour and easy temper.

"That Chantry authority supersedes the Crown?"

"Ferelden is ruled by its people, not by its church," Eilin said, and took another sip. "It doesn't matter. I will take care of it."

They lapsed into silence. Eilin kept her head down, drinking from her mug. Eventually Nathaniel excused himself and headed upstairs, leaving Anders and Eilin at the table.

"You're alright, you know," Anders said eventually, after draining his mug.

Eilin gave him a little smile. "Just alright?"

"Well, alright. More than that. You're one of the first people in a long time who hasn't treated me like I'm a leper."

"Magic's not a disease," Eilin said, voice muffled as she drank the last of her ale. "So I don't see why I should."

"See, this is why I think you should be in charge of everything."

"Oh? And here I thought half of Amaranthine wanted me dead or deposed."

That last thought was sobering, and she sighed, rubbing her eyes. It was easy to make it a joke, but it was still closer to the truth than she liked. Reality was rarely her favourite thing.

"You look tired," Anders said. He was watching her again over his mug, picking out the dark circles under her eyes. "You should get some sleep."

"You sound like my husband," Eilin grumbled, but she pushed her mug away and stood up. "And here I thought I was the one in charge."

"Healer's orders," Anders replied, and gave her a wink. "Goodnight, Warden-Commander."


	4. Questioning Beliefs

"So, Commander," Anders said one night, at dinner. "How did you become a Grey Warden?"

Eilin glanced down the table at the rest of the Wardens. Nathaniel trying his best not to look too interested. Anders and Sigrun watching her with curiosity. Justice with his strange, blank eyes - eyes that saw too much, she thought with a shiver. Oghren with his nose in a pint, like that was a surprise. Velanna at the end of the table, scowling as she picked at her food.

"It's a long story," she said eventually.

"I like long stories," Sigrun said brightly.

Eilin sighed. "I was recruited by the former Commander of the Grey."

"Duncan?" Nathaniel said, then promptly dropped his gaze back to his plate.

"That's the one. He was testing for recruits at Highever, and -"

Velanna struck the table, just loud enough for Eilin to glance up at her.

"Am I required to stay and listen to your tale, or will you allow me to leave?"

"You're not required to do anything," Eilin replied. "Just no killing sprees, thank you."

Anders and Oghren snickered; scowling, Velanna left the room hurriedly, head held high.

"Where was I?" Eilin said.

"Duncan, testing for recruits, Highever," Sigrun said. "Did he pick you?"

"No, my father wouldn't allow it. Highborn noble's daughters don't go adventuring. Not even Grey Wardening."

"But don't the Wardens have the Right of Conscription?"

"Yes, but it's not always prudent to -"

"How did you end up leaving with him?"

"A moment, Anders, I'm getting to that. This was just after the call came from the king, and my father and his vassals were to take their men to Ostagar, to fight the darkspawn. At the same time the Wardens were looking for recruits. They believed the situation was more serious than a simple incursion." She paused and took a gulp of cider to let the others absorb this information. "My father's friend betrayed him. In the dead of night he infiltrated the castle with his soldiers, and slaughtered a lot of people. My family were the target, but they were not the only people his men killed." Her voice grew faint, and she gripped her tankard tightly without realising, frowning. "My mother and I killed our attackers, but my father was badly injured. My mother stayed with him to ensure Duncan and I would escape. He promised to take me to safety if I would join the Wardens."

Sigrun frowned. "Only you and Duncan?"

"My brother lives. He had left for Ostagar earlier, but his wife and young son were killed. Murdered, actually."

Nathaniel looked up from his tankard. "Surely some -"

"None," Eilin said, sharper than she meant to. "Soldiers, servants - children. I saw the bodies myself."

Silence fell over the table. Eventually the Wardens excused themselves, one by one, until only Nathaniel and Eilin remained.

"Commander," he said as she rose. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did," she replied, grinning.

He didn't smile. "Why didn't you tell the others it was my father who killed your family?"

"They didn't need to know. Besides, I didn't think it was their business."

"There's more to it than that, surely. Why hold it back?"

"Two reasons," Eilin said with an exasperated sigh, and leaned close. "One. I don't want the others to think less of you for what happened. Two. The matter is long past being of any significance." He began to speak, but she held up a hand. "Your father betrayed mine, and in doing so he sealed his own doom. Neither Delilah nor you had anything to do with it. Let the dead rest."

"But - "

"Maker's breath!" she exploded finally, and fisted her hands in her hair. "What will it take to convince you that I have put it past me?"

Nathaniel said nothing. Shoulders drooping, Eilin turned and left the hall.

She felt his gaze on her the entire way.


	5. Worth

Eilin remembered well what the thaigs were like. Silence and darkness where the light from a mage's staff barely penetrated, but it was Anders' staff and not Morrigan's that lit the way this time. It would have been unfair to say she wished for her old companions instead, but if there was anything she needed in a place like this, it was familiarity.

At least Oghren was here, and that was no small comfort.

"Are you feeling as nostalgic as I am?" she asked him as they wound through the silent streets.

"Eh?" Oghren glanced up, pausing mid-swig. Eilin repeated the question and he scoffed, replacing his flask on his belt and wiping his mouth. "For Branka? Ha! That old moss-licker?"

"Yes, alright, forget I asked."

The streets of Kal'Hirol were lit with an eerie light that cast a bluish tinge over everything - something to do with lyrium, Sigrun mentioned, or a dweomer perhaps. Eilin had paid little attention to the light and less to the ruins, which was unusual for her. She felt uneasy in this place, and she knew it was at least partly due to her previous memories of the Deep Roads. That journey had been the longest four weeks of her life; four weeks in the uncomfortable warmth and darkness with corruption all around them. Darkspawn and deepstalkers, gigantic spiders and ...she pushed away the memory of Laryn. This was the last place she wanted to relive her memories of that particular horror.

The thaig was crawling with darkspawn and spiders, like that was a surprise. She quickly became used to being on edge, convinced that at any moment a thaig crawler would drop from the ceiling and that would be the end of her.

A little fear was healthy, and kept her alert -or so she told Anders when they made camp for the night. Sigrun had her stone sense and Oghren was Oghren, but the most stone Anders had been surrounded by was the walls of the Circle Tower. He seemed particularly uneasy, and she could hardly blame him for it.

"Can't sleep," he said by way of explanation, when she settled in to take first watch. "How do you do it?"

"Go thaig-diving? Well, we don't exactly have much of a choice. Not after what Jukka said."

"No, I mean...how do you stay so calm?" He gestured around, to the crumbling house they'd made their camp in. "This place makes my skin crawl."

"Oghren and Sigrun are fine," she pointed out.

Anders rolled his eyes. "They're dwarves. You can't be any more used to this than I am. Nothing ever seems to shake you."

"Maybe I'm just good at hiding it." Eilin drew her legs to her chest and rested her head on her knees. "It's been a while, but...I've travelled through the Deep Roads before. And this is what Grey Wardens do. We go trudging through smelly caves and fight tainted monsters."

"And nothing else?"

"I don't know. Drinking competitions? Fancy parties?" She smiled at him. "When you're off-duty you can do whatever you like. I don't own you."

"No," he said dryly. "You just bribe me with pie."

Spectres in a thaig were nothing new to her, but the spirits in Kal'Hirol were more than that.

"Living memories," Sigrun said, touching the bones scattered around a doorway, while a casteless warrior crouched in its entrance. She stared sadly at the translucent brand on the dwarf's face.

"Maybe it's the lyrium," Eilin said. "Or the stone. They don't look like any spirits I've seen." She looked at Anders, who only shrugged.

Later back at the Keep, with the stone of remembrance safely delivered to Dworkin, Eilin asked Sigrun what she thought of what the casteless did.

"They died defending people who cared nothing for them," Sigrun said. "How should I feel?"

"I can't tell you that, and neither can anyone else," Eilin said. "But how fragile would our honour be if it depended entirely on someone else's opinion?"

Sigrun said nothing, and Eilin left her with that thought.


End file.
